


You Have None But Me, You Murmur

by Masu_Trout



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: A Deeply Absurd Level of Dramatic Irony, Angst, Being Homura Is Suffering, Doomed Timelines, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Holding Hands, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Canon Homura Time Loop, Stabbing, Temporary Character Death, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25673893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masu_Trout/pseuds/Masu_Trout
Summary: —and I leave you quite alone.Madoka, felled by a witch's strike, finds some unexpected company in her final moments.
Relationships: Akemi Homura/Kaname Madoka
Comments: 8
Kudos: 74
Collections: Battleship 2020 - Ocean Witch, Battleship 2020 - Yellow Team





	You Have None But Me, You Murmur

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HandmaidenOfHorror](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandmaidenOfHorror/gifts).



_Oh,_ Madoka thought, _I'm dying._

She should have been upset—what would her mother think when they found her body? Would Tayuya even remember her once he was older?—but right now all of that felt so far away. There was a foggy haze over the worries and the pain, blanketing out everything but the rubble digging into her back and a vague sort of discomfort.

Good. She was glad she didn't have to feel it all.

Fading in and out made it hard to keep track of the time. Madoka wasn't quite sure just how long she'd laid there alone. She only knew that all of a sudden she wasn't anymore. 

No footsteps announced the other magical girl's arrival. The air just… _twisted_ , somehow, and a moment later that odd dark-haired girl was there.

"Madoka!" The girl's hands flew to her mouth and her face went, if it was possible, even paler. 

Madoka could only assume it really did look very bad, then. Blood had soaked through her dress to pool underneath her, sticky and strangely cold against her skin.

What a shame. She'd been hoping Mama at least might not have to know it'd been violent. When Mami turned, it had looked as if she'd just keeled over and fallen asleep. (Kyouko wouldn't stop trying to shake her awake. Madoka didn't remember much about that day, but she remembered that.)

"No," the girl said, low and miserable, and—Madoka blinked—had she moved very quickly, or had Madoka lost a few moments just then? It was easy enough to believe her consciousness might be slipping. " _Madoka_ … hold on, okay? Just hold on a little longer, it'll be all right."

It was awfully familiar of her to be using Madoka's name like that. Still, Madoka found she didn't mind. It felt right, somehow, like she'd heard her name spoken in that voice before. Maybe in a dream.

Or maybe it was just that the odd magical girl was finally showing some emotion. She'd always seemed so cold and untouchable. It was nice to see she really could care, even if it took all this to bring out that side of her.

Madoka took a shaky breath—not deep enough, her lungs wouldn't fill—and tried to give Akemi her best smile. "A… Akemi-san, right? I—thank you. I'm glad you're here."

For some reason, that only seemed to make Akemi more upset. She bit down on her lip so hard Madoka was afraid it might bleed. Her hands were curled into white-knuckled fists; the taut skin there made her soul gem stand out more than ever.

Bright and clear. Full of magic still.

 _Good_. The relief hit Madoka like a wave, like the witch that had carved her through. At least Mitakihara City would have one magical girl left even after she was gone. Mami and Sayaka were dead, after all, and Kyoko had wandered off to somewhere new not long after she lost them. 

It had been hard, hunting alone. It would be hard for Akemi too, she was sure, but somehow Madoka knew she'd be more than capable enough. Maybe it was that richly colored gem of hers—it seemed like the sort of thing a really amazing magical girl might have—or maybe it was just the aura of pure confidence she projected.

Akemi was staring at her still, hands half-raised and reaching towards Madoka as if she might try to stem the flow of blood with her hands. As if there was anything she could do.

Maybe this was her first time watching another magical girl die. Madoka hoped not—she didn't want to be the one to traumatize the poor girl. Sayaka'd been the first, for her, and Madoka _still_ had nightmares about the way she hadn't even screamed as the witch's massive claw came down on her.

"Akemi-san." Madoka wanted to give her some advice or some words of encouragement, something to help keep that bright soul gem from darkening. Instead, what came out of her mouth was, "Will you hold my hand?"

"What?"

"Just for a bit," Madoka said. "It won't take long. I'm… I'm cold, that's all."

Her body should have been warming the pavement, but instead the pavement was cooling her body. The blood pooled around her kept getting tackier and colder and grosser. She kept wishing she could've just died quick and gotten it over with.

Akemi was silent for a long moment. Madoka was half-afraid she might just pull the grief seeds out of Madoka's pockets and run for it. Finally, quietly, she said, "Of course."

Nothing more and nothing less than that. Her face had gone still and strangely cold—like she hardly even cared anymore, like she wasn't really here at all—but her hands were almost impossibly gentle as they intertwined with Madoka's.

"Here," Akemi said, and then she was going one step further; her hands were on Madoka's arms, pulling her up and in, closer to her.

"Hurts," Madoka hissed through gritted teeth. The pavement suddenly seemed like a downright pleasant choice, if this was the other option.

"I know. I'm sorry." Akemi paused a moment. "Wait, here, this will help."

"What will—oh!" A sudden flicker of darkness, short as blinking, and then Madoka found herself curled halfway in Akemi's lap.

 _Wow,_ Madoka thought. This was really nice. Warm, for one, and Akemi smelled like soap instead of witch-rot or raw guts. She'd changed her mind; this was much better than the pavement.

"Can you teleport, Akemi-san?" 

Akemi tilted her head to the side, the way a bird might. "…Something like that." 

"That's a really amazing power." Madoka lifted one shaky hand into Akemi's lap to join the rest of her—the more warmth the merrier—and it wasn't until she grabbed hold of rough plain fabric that she'd realized what she was doing. "Oh no, Akemi-san, your uniform!"

She hadn't changed over to her magical girl dress; she was still in the bland and very much nonmagical Mitakihara school uniform. There was no washing the blood out of that thing. Madoka knew from experience.

"It's okay," was the only thing Akemi said.

"Are you sure? I'm so sorry…"

"It won't matter soon. None of this will."

That couldn't be right. "That's not true, Akemi-san. You still need to live. There's people here worth saving, and I can tell you're a great magical girl when you put your mind to it."

"Well," Akemi said, "there's one person here worth saving, at least."

It sounded a little odd, the way she said it, but—that had to be a good sign, right? If she still had someone she wanted to fight for, it meant she hadn't given up yet. (It also meant Madoka wouldn't have to try and encourage her to live, which she was very glad for. Sayaka hadn't listened to her when she tried, and Madoka had been her best friend for years. Akemi had only recently become more than _that shy transfer student_ to her.)

"I'm glad. I… If you would." Madoka paused a moment to draw another shallow breath. It was getting harder and harder now. 

"Yes?"

"Would you put my body somewhere further from here? I don't want one of my neighbors to be the one who finds it." Or, even worse, her parents. Stumbling across Sayaka's body had been horrid enough. Madoka couldn't even imagine how a parent might feel finding one of their children that way.

Akemi's hands reached in and folded over Madoka's—her warm palms covering her knuckles, their fingers interlaced together. It was a nice feeling, but it would have been even nicer if not for the stricken expression on Akemi's face.

"Don't worry about any of that," she said. "None of this is real, okay? All of this is just a dream. And soon you'll wake up in your bed and you'll forget you ever worried about being a magical girl. I promise."

"That would be nice, wouldn't it?" Madoka smiled. Back in her room with Sayaka and Mami still alive, no ring on her hand, the word _witch_ little more than something out of a fairy tale… it was fun to imagine. She could picture herself jolting awake and scrambling out of bed, worrying about her homework or a test or something else easy like that. 

But this wasn't the kind of nightmare Madoka would have ever conjured for herself. And anyway, she wasn't creative enough to dream up the shuddering weakness in her limbs or the way the world around her kept growing colder and dimmer and further away.

It was lovely, though. To imagine that might be true. So Madoka tucked her head into Akemi's lap and let her eyes fall closed. A hand wrapped around her own and another combing gently through her hair lulled her into a soft sense of calm as each breath came further and further apart and—

—Madoka woke up.

Her eyes flew open and her whole body shuddered around a panicked sob.

"Madoka!" 

Strong hands around her, must be that girl holding onto her still, but it was her mother's face she saw when she blinked the sleep from her eyes and who was _that girl_ anyway?

"Madoka, are you okay?" Mama was looking at her now, face tight with fear. Madoka's hands almost went to her side— _touching the wound there, her hands coming up tacky with blood_ —though she knew all she'd find was her pajama top.

After a moment, she realized she was crying.

"…Mama?" she asked. She rubbed at her cheeks to try and brush away the tear-tracks. She'd had bad dreams before, but never quite like this. "Is everything okay?"

"You tell me! I was all curled up and suddenly I heard you just screaming!"

"I'm sorry."

"Shh, no, don't be. You scared me, that's all."

Madoka curled her fingers in her bedspread, taking in the softness and the quiet and the early-morning light pouring in around the cracks in her blinds. It wasn't cold here. It wasn't dark.

Gently, her mother reached out and ran a hand through her hair. "Is everything okay, Madoka? If something's going on, you know you can always tell me." Her face looked pinched, tight with fear she was trying not to let show.

Madoka shook her head. "No, nothing like that. I guess I had a nightmare, is all." 

That strange dream hadn't felt all bad, had it? She could still remember the relief that had coursed through her when she'd realized she wasn't alone. But the chill, the darkness, the sure knowledge that it all was about to end… 

No, that hadn't been much fun at all.

Still. Just a dream, nothing more, and one that was quickly fading. Already she couldn't remember the stranger's face or why she'd even cared so much about those weird crystals at all. Even the scariest dreams always seemed silly in the light of day. 

She looked up at her mother and smiled with all the energy she could muster. "I'll be just fine, Mama. I promise."


End file.
